The Catalyst
by Duchess of Kilcardy
Summary: When Kimiko's prince manifests as a secret admirer, she finds herself falling for someone she doesn't even know. But as the mystery unravels, Kimiko wonders if she's also falling for someone she does.
1. First

Kimiko liked to think of herself as an idealist when it came to things like love. She still believed in the silly, ancient relics of old fashioned romance. She secretly delighted in hoping that somewhere a boy was setting his coat over an ominous puddle of mud to protect the object of his desire's new shoes. She giggled every time she imagined someone showering her with brilliant, personal poetry and sweeping her off her feet with words and chocolates. She would love to think that someone was thinking of her as they picked a bouquet of fresh wildflowers or bought a bottle of her favorite perfume.

Kimiko enjoyed keeping her private reservoirs of flirtations, titters, and longings to be the center of that special someone's doting affection. She liked being a little girly. It kept her sane in the otherwise testosterone driven nuthouse that she lovingly called home.

Kimiko also, however, was a realist, and though she was smitten with visions of heartfelt confessions and candlelit dinners, she knew it was extraordinarily unlikely that any of her fancies would transpire. Kimiko had never been in a real relationship, since she had been swept up in the solitary (and involuntarily virtuous) life of a monk in the springtime of her adolescence. Even if she were pursued and, heaven forbid, caught, she wouldn't know what to do or how to act, and the whole ordeal would end in heartbreak.

Not to mention, as a Xiaolin Warrior, she couldn't very well be tied down with the literal weight of the world on her shoulders. With her and the boys jet setting every fifteen minutes to find a new Wu or stop the latest evil plot for world conquest, it wouldn't be fair to have a significant other; they'd never see each other, and probably never talk, either. The only thing that would bound them together would be the title, and if that's the only thing two people have in common then the relationship wasn't worth the hassle. Kimiko had accepted (although was none too pleased with) her fate, and reasoned that she simply would have to wait. How long, or for who, were yet to be determined, but she dejectedly figured it would be a very, very, very long time.

But figures can always be wrong.

Kimiko had been alone for most of the day. The others had engaged in separate activities, all of which required seclusion; Omi was meditating, Raimundo was training, and Clay was...eating. (The last one didn't technically require seclusion, but everyone had resolved that once Clay got started, _no one_ wanted to be around him.) She'd been fine by herself, though; she'd just emailed Keiko, downloaded the latest oh-so-trendy but oh-so-cliche album of the band of the week, and beaten her own high score on Goo Blasters Two.

It had been a quiet morning, but silence was so rare around the temple it was happily accepted. Kimiko was enjoying herself, and after defeating the last boss in _The Legend of Helga: Bagpipes of Next Week_ for the 4th time, she resolved to go back to her room to try on a few new outfits that her dad had sent. She'd been meaning to accessorize her pink and blue pinstripe capris, anyway. Maybe she'd experiment a little with her hair as well; test out a couple of colors, see whether she should wear it long or short, twist, turn, and knot it in fifty different directions, that sort of thing.

She absently wandered down the corridor, inky hair wound around an ivory finger and thoughts comfortably jerking from one direction to the other, never settling long enough for her to recall them. It was most likely because of this that she failed to notice minuscule details of her surroundings that would have otherwise leapt up and screamed at her had she been paying attention. She didn't notice Dojo skittering across the hall, bowl of rice in hand, and nearly tripped over him. (Thankfully he yelped out in terror before she crushed his tail and no damage was done, but not before a healthy amount of white grains scattered on the tile.) She also didn't see that one of the statues had been moved, or that a decorative banner had been torn somewhat severely and was frayed along the bottom edges.

Or that someone had left a letter in her room.

Kimiko had been at her vanity for about fifteen minutes before her vacant haze lifted and her senses reverted back to their normal states of alertness. She was applying eyeliner when it happened, when she instinctively glanced to the side and saw the reflection of the delicate white envelope nestled on her pillow in the mirror. She blinked, confused, and after setting the makeup down, she glided to the entrance and poked her head back out into the hall, hoping for a sign that someone had previously been there.

"Hello?" she called, after she was unable to find a trace of anyone. She received no response but still did not trust what she found and called out again, this time a little louder. Nothing but her own echo replied. Kimiko shrugged and, after surveying the area one last time, disappeared behind the cloth barrier and back into her quarters.

She sat down in the lotus position on her rice mat and cautiously lifted the frail, pale paper. Her name had been scrawled in what she assumed was meant to be neat handwriting; the first three letters of her name looked as though they required much effort to create, whereas the last three looked as though the writer had given up hope and quickly blurred everything together. She flipped the envelope over and opened it, careful not to rip the fragile paper anymore than necessary. As she removed the letter from inside, she was inundated with the scent of coffee beans and morning glories. It was an odd combination, but intoxicating nonetheless, and she breathed it in again with a satisfied smile.

The letter itself was in the same contorted handwriting on the face of the envelope in intriguing, bold black ink. It was peculiar, the author's style; the loops were all far too wide and in unneeded places, like at the bases of 'r's and 's's. Also, the crosses for the 't's were overly thick and hovered above the letter itself, and the disconnection made it appear like an 'l' at first glance. The 'i's were dotted with messy checkmarks, and every 'q', 'j', and 'z' was printed as opposed to the otherwise cursive marks.

Kimiko heard movement outside her room, and turned back just in time to see Clay peak in, his trademark grin plastered on his freckled face.

"Here ya are, Kim! Sorry if I'm interrupting, but Master Fung asked me to find you to...hey, whatcha got there? A letter?"

"Oh, yeah." she answered, moving her entire body to face the cowboy. "I just found it now...I don't know who it's from." Clay nodded, and awkwardly looked at the ground after a moment, gnawing slightly on his lower lip. Kimiko giggled; she'd always admired his gentlemanly manners. "You can come in, Clay." she invited with a warm smile.

Clay beamed and gladly stepped into her nook, confidently striding towards her once he entered. "Shoot, I thought you'd never let me in!" He crouched down beside her, glancing at the letter she still clutched. "I don't mean to be a nosy ninny, but what does this mystery note say?" Kimiko shrugged again, excited beyond reason but able to conceal it with quiet composure.

"Well, let's find out." She cleared her throat and read aloud.

_Kimiko, these are the words I dare not utter, in a voice I dare not speak with. The language I use now is too precious for my ignorant tongue to employ, and so I must write it for fear of being able to not communicate it at all. I have long since admired you and your haunting beauty, but only now am I able to reveal it to you. It is cowardly, I admit, to not identify myself, but it seems I still fear that you will not accept the love and devotion I offer you. It is because of this fear that I remain in the shadows, but soon enough I will emerge. Until then, I shall leave you several gift; small, trite tokens of my feelings. Naturally the gifts I give don't hold a candle to my real emotions, but I leave them anyway in hopes that, perhaps, you will eventually adore me as passionately I adore you. _

_Forever yours,_

_Your Secret Admirer. _

By this point, Kimiko's cheeks burned so hotly that she honestly expected them to be aflame. Clay whistled in awe and smirked, tilting his hat back to look at the blushing, stunned girl.

"I guess someone's got a crush." he laughed, rising as he spoke. Kimiko tightened her grip on the letter, ocean eyes wide and shining.

"I...I don't...I mean...Wow!" was all she could stumble out. She was far too elated to articulate anything else; everything within her was exploding into colorful, elaborate fireworks of joy and happiness. She smiled as wide as her face would allow, and soon found it impossible to relent her grin. "Who do you think it is?"

"Beats me." Clay said, helping her to her feet. "But I'll tell ya, whoever it is sure took a shining to you! You better keep an eye out for these 'tokens', little lady. If they're anything like the actual words, they're sure to be good." He moved to the door, and beckoned her to follow. "Now, c'mon. Master Fung asked to see us a dog's age ago, and the last thing we ought to do is keep him wating!"

_Eeek! Cliche! And silly! But FUN! OH SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE!_

_This is a bit different than One. Actually, it's entirely different from One, because it's happy and bursting with love and not-angst. And there are, like, jokes. Yes, I know it's a mehhhhh plot, but it gets better, I swear. (Or rather, I hope.) I also hope you like it...it's my first pseudo-mystery and I want it to be good. They'll be a few twists and turns, and I promise the chapters won't be as sucky as this one. (But you know, I had to introduce the plot somehow.) Anyway, please tell me what you think, good or bad! And...enjoy!_


	2. Second

"I am still quite confused...please explain again what this admirer of secrets does?"

It was late in the evening, and dusk was just beginning to daintily sprinkle faint oranges and reds across the endless sky. The lethargically approaching cool night of crystal fog was warmed by the reflected colors of the setting sun. Kimiko, too excited to contain herself any longer, had burst and told Omi and Raimundo about the mysterious letter and her unknown afficionado. They were sitting in the open porch at the back of the temple, the letter in question spread out and smoothed down over the chilled tile for all to view. Omi was still unable to grasp the concept of a crush, and Kimiko laughed silently as Raimundo rolled his eyes.

"Naw, partner. This feller doesn't want to admire someone's secrets. He _secretly admires_ someone...namely, Kimiko. You know, he fancies her. He finds her fetching. He thinks she's mighty keen." Clay's explanation only elicited a blank stare from the youngest monk, and Raimundo groaned in frustration.

"He _likes_ her. As in, more than you, me, and Clay do. Get it?"

Omi still didn't completely understand, but stated otherwise simply because he did not want to incur the Wind Dragon's wrath. The four were huddled in a circle, staring down at the simple and sappy message and plotting their next move. Kimiko continued to beam, her smile bright enough to produce sunlight, and still buzzed with exuberance. She had to admit, she had been boasting just a little when she presented the letter, and she was anxious to hear whether the other Dragons would be half as enchanted as she was.

"I question whether these motives are genuine." Omi proposed, furrowing his brow and stroking his chin pensively. "It very well could be an elaborate plot by Jack Spicer to make us unfurl our watch keeper."

"Er, I think you mean let down our guard." Clay corrected.

"As you say. But the point remains; if Jack Spicer were able to distract us with a false letter of love, he could very easily slip in and steal our Wu!"

"Hey, let's be honest here...this is Jack we're talking about. There's no way he'd be able to get into the temple without one of us noticing. Too many things would be broken, and he'd probably wind up stuck in a tree or something. He's not smart enough to get in, leave the letter, and get out without someone hearing him cry." Raimundo countered, sprawling out comfortably on the ground and resting his head in the crook of his extended arm. Clay nodded at no one in particular and kicked out his boot-clad feet in front of him.

"Both of y'all got points. Jack's probably not capable of something like that, but someone else might be." He paused, his eyes focused on the toe of his scuffed boot. "I think it'll be in all of our best interests to find out who this cowpoke is, just to be on the safe side."

Throughout the conversation, Kimiko's felicity had great subsided and was rapidly replaced with petulance. While she knew they wouldn't exactly leap at the news, she had not thought that they would instead strategize how to capture the so-called assailant. She'd momentarily forgotten that not only were these boys (and not her chattering girlfriends who would squeal and fawn over every move the mystery man made) but these were _trained_ boys, boys who had perfected the art of sleuthing and deception and whose suspicions were aroused by a cold cup of tea. These weren't your normal, overprotective, brotherly-type boys. These were _extreme_ boys.

"Excuse me, but what about my best interest?" Kimiko interjected, crossing her arms firmly and glowering at each person individually. Omi, Raimundo, and Clay looked up the second they heard the vexation and venom in her voice.

"Do you really think the only chance of someone having an interest in me is if it's an evil plot against all of us? Am I _that_ unattractive to you?"

"Aw, don't start with that bit, girl." Raimundo replied, the annoyance in his tone mirroring the one it was directed at. "That whole," (he raised his voice into a mocking, high falsetto.) "'Ay, I'm not pretty and I'm so fat and no one likes me, pity me!' act. You know you're a total babe."

Kimiko turned to him, icy gems devoid of the spitefulness they held just a moment ago. She was surprised by Raimundo's response...confused and flattered, yes, but mostly surprised. She didn't see the comment coming, in general and especially from the deliverer. Raimundo hadn't really ever been one to dole out compliments, and even rarer was if they were about anyone's personal appearance. A shadow of a smile grazed her lips, grateful for the sincerity...even if it was sarcastic and snappish.

Clay chuckled and pat a hand on Kimiko's shoulder, provoking her to turn away from the Brazilian and towards the Texan. "Powerful sorry, Kimiko, didn't mean to leave you high and dry, there. We just wanna cover our hides."

"Clay is correct." Omi added, eyes closed and hands neatly folded in his lap. "We must be sure to be wary and cautious at all times. It is most unlikely that this admirer of secrets is anything but untrue, but nonetheless, we must remain alert, for there is always the possibility."

The monks all nodded because no one knew what else to contribute. Finally, Omi's solemn stance was broken by a titter, which soon evolved into a smile, and his eyes popped open alive with joviality.

"I must admit, however." he said between giggles. "This whole ordeal is _most_ thrilling. I am anxiously awaiting the admirer of secret's action!" Clay joined with a deep-throated chuckle and tipped his hat back to reveal his clear blue eyes.

"You and me both, partner! I'm more eager than a woodchuck in a sixty mile red wood forest!"

Kimiko grinned, pleased, and the three began theorizing manically about who her suitor could be. Clay remained stoic, save for a glimmer of mirth fueling his subtle smile while Omi flailed his short arms animatedly to emphasize his enthusiasm for the situation.

"Maybe it's someone from back home...do y'know anyone back in Tokyo who might do something like this?" Clay imagined with a pointed finger, but Kimiko shook her head in the negative.

"No one comes to mind...plus I'm pretty sure my family and Keiko are the only ones who know I'm here. It has to be someone all of us know. Oh! What about Jermaine? He's kinda mysterious, and he's crafty enough to get in and out of the temple unnoticed."

"That is very unlikely." Omi replied with a frown. "Jermaine is on the complete other side of the world, and despite how advanced his skills of stealth are, I doubt he would be willing to put in the amount of effort required. Also, he once mentioned something about," He paused, mouth twisted as he wondered how he was going to word what he wanted to say. He lifted his chubby yellow fingers and bent them around the incorrect words as he continued. "'Getting his mack on,' with 'all the fly honeys up in NYC.' Perhaps someone else?"

"Who else could there be? Tubbimura? Chase Young?" The three stared at each other blankly, the thoughts of an obese ninja or an immortal reptile-human hybrid prancing about the temple and sprinkling rose petals and singing songs of love raced through their heads, and they immediately collapsed into uncontrollably fits of laughter.

Raimundo, who had not said anything throughout the duration of this, finally voiced his grievance in a groan, and raised himself onto his elbows to get the others' attention.

"If you ask me, this whole thing is idiotic." They managed to quiet long enough and brush away the fat tears that slithered down their faces to hear Raimundo's statement. Kimiko uprighted herself and shot the dark boy a look so withering that the flowers in the vicinity all wilted.

"Well, who asked you?" she spat, and he rolled his magnificent emerald eyes.

"You did. You did when you skipped in here with your stupid letter and made us read it and, without speaking, asked us what we thought. I'm just giving you an opinion." Kimiko flushed, both from embarrassment and fury, and just as she was about to tear him to ribbons with her tongue, Clay intervened.

"Whoa, cool your jets, partner. What's with the ornery attitude?" Raimundo sighed and pushed himself up onto his knees, running a calloused hand though light, mahogany locks.

"I don't know. I'm...not a fan of this kind of stuff. You guys can get all twitter patted or whatever you call it, but leave me out of it." Kimiko softened opened her mouth to question him, but he swiftly lifted himself to his feet and started ambling back into the temple.

"Rai, where are you going?" she called after him, trying to sound as sweet as she could to coax him back. She was unsuccessful and he continued on his way, his fists tucked deep in his pockets.

"That was odd." Omi noted, eyes flickering from the shrinking warrior back to the letter, which was starting to move about the triangle of people in the oncoming wing. Kimiko, however, kept her eyes locked on Raimundo until he completely vanished in the depths of the golden sanctuary.

"Yeah." she mumbled absently. "Really odd."

---

The next day Kimiko awoke to see a large vial of her favorite perfume, which had been taken off the market months ago, resting beside her. She was of course ecstatic, and elatedly told the others over breakfast. Raimundo's out of place explosion from the night before was relatively forgotten, but once the secret admirer was mentioned he bit his lower lip, as if to hold in another outburst, and only made eye contact with his meal. Fortunately for him, everyone was too enveloped in the developing mystery to notice.

That afternoon, after an intense morning of training, Kimiko went to the kitchen to find some nourishment for her worn and weary body, only to find six boxes of chocolates instead. The candies were neatly arranged in elegant, red, heart shaped containers adorned with a hint of lace and an amusingly gigantic bow. She shared the treats with the boys (even on her worst day, she couldn't eat _that_ much chocolate) who discussed in detail their individual hypotheses of the lover in disguise. Raimundo remained silent. They chalked it up to the sticky candies and didn't give it a second thought.

The evening rolled around again and with it came another letter. She had actually been with Raimundo when she found it (it had been taped to the face of one of the shining dragon idols). She fingered it cautiously, but would not open it in Raimundo's presence. She didn't know why.

"So." Raimundo coughed, blatantly gazing at the envelope Kimiko was rotating in her lily-like hands. The arrival of the letter was like the arrival of an unwanted guest at a dinner party, and made the otherwise amicable air between the two suddenly and inexplicably awkward. They'd been engaged in a light hearted conversation about what Master Fung secretly did when they were not around. Kimiko thought he was a high class fashion model, strutting majestically and confidently down the runway in the latest Victoria's Secret styles. Raimundo thought he was a hit rap star who worked under the alias 'Funk Mastah F', the F standing for 'fresh'. They were laughing. They were enjoying themselves. Then the letter materialized and it was like they were perfect strangers, straining to break the uneasy silence between them with any fraction of conversation they could muster.

"So..." Raimundo repeated after a while, or at least what he thought was a while. "So, let me ask you something." Kimiko glanced up, curious blue eyes studying the Brazilian's face.

"Alright. Go ahead." Raimundo had obviously not expected her to agree, because his eyebrows both raised in surprise and his mouth shrunk in a taunt 'o' shape. He clear his throat and fiddled with the front of his robes, unsure of what he wanted to say.

"Do you...do you buy into all this stuff?" He forced the words out of him like they were made of vomit, but still remained preoccupied with his clothes. Kimiko's snowy brow furrowed, shaking her head as sooty pigtail bounced off her swan-like neck.

"What do you mean?" He quietly moaned, not happy to have to explain himself further.

"I mean this secret admirer stuff. You're not really _falling_ for it, are you?"

"I-I don't know. I mean it's fun and all, but it's only been one day." She stopped, and looked up at him suspiciously. "Why?" she drawled.

"No reason. Look, forget I said anything." He ducked into his room and that was that, end of conversation. Period.

Kimiko shook her head and grunted something, stubbornly slumping against the wall and sliding to the floor. Without a second thought, she ripped apart the envelope and read it in the hall across from his quarters just to spite him. The contents of the letter simply dripped of adoration and affection, and she felt her heart swell in her throat as she read. It was like music, the way this person wrote. Each word seemed to flow as if accompanied by an orchestra and sung in a melodious, captivating soprano. It was a symphony, the letters trilled and shimmered with the radiance a thousand violins could not imitate. She breathed in the letter's characteristic scent, and became drunk with the overwhelming power of coffee beans and morning glories.

When she finished, she was flustered and giddy and downright oblivious to her surroundings. She barely noticed Raimundo leaving his room and scoffing at her as he passed.

She did, however, notice the black pen that he dropped.

_I got lazy with the letter, I'm sorry. But honestly, do you really want the lovey dovey ooey gooey crap that I wrote last time? I think not. I practically gagged as I wrote it. Anyway, this is when the plot actually starts. It becomes less and less about this dude and more about...stuff. And for those of you who thought it was Kim/Clay from the first chapter...tsk tsk. Don't be so quick to jump to conclusions. Ye never know if they could be wrong...or right ;) Please review. I love it so. _


	3. Third

She was jumping to conclusions. Yes. That was it. This entire ordeal was making her antsy and quick to make assumptions about anything that swayed even slightly in one direction. So what if Raimundo had a black pen? That didn't mean anything. Sure, it was his only pen (as he'd announced when he requested/demanded their help finding it) and he was rather irked for having to borrow one of Clay's blue ballpoints, but who wouldn't be after losing their only pen? Well, maybe it wasn't lost, and maybe Kimiko was holding on to it just to scribble on the papers to compare the ink of the two. She had to admit, it was a little odd that it happened to be a perfect match, but she was foolish to think them to be the _same_ pen. There were millions, maybe even billions, of those pens circulating throughout the world, many people are bound to possess them. So there. She was just getting a little out of her head. It was merely a coincidence. Imagine, Raimundo being her...and that she even thought he...she laughed at the idea. Ha ha ha.

She stopped laughing when the next letter was written in blue ink.

---

Kimiko did her best to put her suspicions out of her mind, and surprised herself by doing a fairly good job. However, she did have her moments when they got the best of her, and she purposely brought up the admirer in Raimundo's presence simply to monitor his reaction.

"Do you think it's weird," she'd spoken obnoxiously to Clay one day, as Raimundo fiddled with a game from her expansive collection. "That the color of the ink in the letters changed from black to blue?"

She saw Raimundo tense; barely, and only for a fraction of a second, but in that fraction she caught him tightening his often-limp shoulders. His attention was not deterred, though, and he remained focused on the game he was playing.

"Well, I don't know, missy. He could have just ran out of ink on his old one." Clay said monotonously, as he was half-asleep anyway, with the brim of his hat concealing most of his face.

"Or lost it." Kimiko pressed, hoping it would earn her a more definite hint. "He could have lost the old pen and had to use a new one. I guess that makes sense."

"Do you think maybe you're reading a little too much into this?" Raimundo shut off the game and jumped uninvited into the conversation, and there was a glean in his eyes that Kimiko could not decipher. "Maybe he got sick of black ink, huh? What does it matter anyway?"

She hid a satisfied smirk when she broke him, and tried to mask how pleased she was with annoyance. "I'm curious, I want to figure out who it is. Why are you getting so beat up over this?" Raimundo shoved the game into her hands forcefully and huffed as he stood up.

"Because don't you think that this secret admirer dude wants to stay, oh, I don't know, a _secret_?"

"What's the fun in that?"

Raimundo growled and mumbled something about going somewhere before storming off, the black cloud hovering over his head clearly visible. Kimiko couldn't help but feel a little guilty for her behavior, but her curiosity was getting the best of her. She _had _to know the identity of her pursuer. More importantly, she had to know if her gut was telling the truth.

Because if so, things could wind up getting very complicated.

---

When Kimiko entered her room to put away her game, she jarred when she noticed that the curtain blocking the doorway had shifted to the right, as if it had been moved. With lightening speed she rushed inside, praying to catch the assailant in the act. She had no such luck, as the room was empty, but

her disappointment dissipated into thin air when she saw the graceful little peony flower adorning her pillow. With a riant smile and a nervous giggle, she knelt and took the delicate plant into her hands. It was lovely, an ethereal shade of pink with seemingly thousands of tiny petals intertwined with each other.

The craftsmanship reminded her of a spider's web, meticulously woven and spun to create the most beauty it could. A sweet fragrance drifted from the heart of the masterpiece, and she held it up to her face to inhale and felt the tender kisses of ten dozen pink lips caress her face.

Wrapped around the blazing green stem was a note. After lowering the bud, it caught her eye and she carefully unraveled it. It was written in blue ink, in the same loopy, messy handwriting she'd come to recognize.

_Just a little something so you don't forget me._

Kimiko closed her eyes and resisted the urge to sigh. Everything was so horribly romantic, she didn't know how much longer she could go without knowing who was sending her such wonderful things. She had to see them face to face. She had to see the face of the admirer she slowly found herself admiring back.

There was a knock on the wood frame of her doorway, and she tucked the gift safely into the front of her tunic, where it would not be seen. She told the knocker to come in, and Omi entered, brushing off his own tunic as he did so.

"Master Fung requests our presence." Kimiko rolled her eyes at the downer; she predicted that they would be doing some new chore, and manual labor always killed her buzz. Omi didn't bother waiting for her, as he always had to be the first to arrive when Master Fung called them, and so she rose, stopping briefly to check that her robe completely concealed the plant, and proceeded to the entrance of the temple alone.

---

"Young monks, I have a different sort of chore for you to complete." Master Fung alerted upon everyone's arrival. They groaned quietly, save for Omi, who beamed boastfully.

"Oh, I am most excited for this new task, Master Fung, for I am certain I will excel, as a often do. Oh, but I jest...I _always_ excel!"

With his ego swollen to unimaginable heights, Omi could not see Master Fung raise an eyebrow at him and quietly smirk.

"I am pleased to hear this, Omi." Omi's head expanded even greater than it had been and the other monks grumbled at how Master Fung was merely fueling it. He eyed each individually, and they snapped to attention and gave him the respect he expected and deserved.

"I believe you will be pleased as well, when you hear my request." They all glanced at each other confusedly but made no other show of it. "It seems that the temple is running low on a number of items. I would like you to obtain them for me." Everyone deflated at the lackluster news.

"So you're telling us we should be happy...to run your _errands_?" Raimundo said flatly, and the Grand Master smiled.

"In order to procure them, I will need you to go to the market."

The monks instantly lit up; being able to leave the temple for something other than Shen Gong Wu was a blessing in itself, but being able to leave _and _buy whatever they desired was like Christmas. They had been devoid of the modern essentials for far too long, and while the market was by no means modern, it was exhilarating to think that they could at least come close to purchasing them.

Dojo slithered off Master Fung's shoulder and grew to his true, enormous state. As everyone hoped on, Master Fung distributed small lists of required items and pieces of silver.

"I ask though that you return within the hour, and do not allow yourselves to overindulge in fanciful items and foods." he warned.

"Oh, because material possessions are fleeting and unsatisfying?" Omi suggesting, and Master Fung shook his head.

"No, because you're spending _my_ money."

With that, Dojo took flight and set course for the ancient market a few miles away.

---

The market was buzzing with life. The air was thick with persuasive shouts from venders and the bargaining hisses of the buyers who unfailingly haggled their way down. Children begged their mothers to buy them fruit, tugging on the hems of their long skirts, only to be swatted at and chided for being nuisances. Farmers dragged immense oxen and horses to be traded for barrels of seeds, and the high pitched arguments over price were made all the more amusing in another language.

Dojo, having reverted back to his smaller shape, coiled his way around Clay's leg and slinked all the way up his neck, where he bent comfortably around the wide brim of the cowboy's hat. He was aware of the wide-eyed awe and titillated shine that overcame the monks upon entering the market place, and waved his tiny emerald arms to get their attention.

"Alright, kids. Master Fung wants me to watch you and make sure you don't do anything stupid. Just get what's on the list...but if you wanna pick up a little something for yourself, fine by me. Note; _little!_ That means small, compact, tiny, miniscule...you get the idea. Nothing over the top. And nothing _extravagant_."

All eyes fell on the Japanese girl who was fingering a silk robe, and when she realized she was the focus of the groups lusterless stares she flushed and

snatched her hand away as if the garment had been made of the element she wielded.

"What? I like nice things."

"...We'll finish faster if we split up." Dojo continued, moving back towards the original topic. "Let's agree to meet right here in twen-" He stopped himself when he noticed that no one in the group had a method of telling time, and that there wasn't a single functional clock for miles. "-How about when the sun moves behind that tower? That work for everyone? Good? Good. Now get moving!"

They were off like carnivores on the hunt for their meal, slicing off in four different directions and not-so-considerately darting through the throngs of people.

---

Kimiko, being the grade A shopper that she was, completed her list in a matter of minutes. With one item left and time to spare, she ambled through the long, endless rows of tables and cloth awnings and browsed. There hadn't been anything that had really sparked her interest; she purchased a pair of glass chopsticks to pin up her hair with, but nothing else. Truthfully, she hadn't been as thrilled about shopping as she expected to be. Her mind kept drifting, and she found herself torpidly buying what she was instructed to, the purchases lacking the fun and glee that they usually held.

Kimiko turned down another row of tables and glanced at her list to check what was left. Incense. Easy. The place was crawling with it. With another quick left she floated towards the table she wanted, her head casually meandering away from her body at about the same pace she walked.

She remembered the peony flower that she had hidden, and with a reflexive look over her shoulder she withdrew it from her tunic. It hadn't withered in the

slightest, still radiating with affection and beauty. Distractedly and with the speed of dripping molasses, she began to pluck the petals off one by one, mentally humming the classic mantra that every girl has uttered at least once; _He loves me. He loves me not._

Kimiko felt a tug at her lips as she looked at the flower and a rush of cold run up the length of her spine. She hadn't meant to get roped into this whole thing, she merely liked the attention and thought it was fun. But now...things were starting to change. She was constantly consumed with thoughts of him; who he could be, did she ever meet him, how was he so smooth...and when she wasn't thinking about him, she was anxiously anticipating and guessing what his next gift could be. Maybe it was because of her old fashioned ideals of romance, or because she had been starved for the adoration of someone like this for far too long, but she was falling for him. A little. Actually, a lot. She just kept telling herself otherwise.

"Hola, chica." a voice murmured like honey into her ear. She yelped in surprise and whipped around, glaring when she found the source.

"Not cool, Rai." The Brazilian boy grinned cheekily and walked in step with her.

"Sorry, couldn't help it. You were acting like a total space cadet, I had to snap you out of it somehow." Her grimace deepened as his smile widened.

"I was _not_ a space cadet."

"Girl, you were cruising past Jupiter by the time I found you. You're lucky I had to swing by here to pick up wontons. Lord knows where you would have

ended up." Kimiko sighed and shook her head, letting her exasperation flutter to the ground in flakes as her gaze fell upon the plant again.

"So, what's got you all loopy?" She didn't respond immediately, and he suddenly saw the plant she cupped gently in her hands. He made a face, unseen to her. "Oh...I assume that's something from your new boyfriend?" His tone was laced with a strand or two of resentfulness, with a hint of scorn as a decoration. Kimiko didn't remove her gaze.

"He's not my boyfriend." she replied cooly, slowly plucking off the petals again, silently repeating those two youthful little sentences.

"Yet?" he asked, sounding much like a lonely puppy whining for its master. Kimiko locked eyes with him, a little puzzled, and shrugged.

"I don't know, maybe. Everything's just moving so fast, I don't..." She paused, unhitching her gaze from Raimundo's forest orbs and fixing it on the gift again. "I can't like someone I don't know."

"But do you?"

His voice startled her with its calm, velvety tone, flavored with just a tinge of what she thought to be-sadness? No. Probably fatigue. He's just exhausted because he didn't get his normal 14 hours of sleep. That makes sense.

"...Maybe."

He laughed then, genuine and false at the same time, and tucked his hands behind his head.

"I can't believe it. You don't really _like_ this stuff..." Raimundo quieted, sea glass eyes fluttering over to her imploringly. "...Do you? Like this stuff?"

His tone startled her again, enough to cause her to momentarily halt in her gradual destruction of the flower. Whereas his previous words had almost been dripping with saliva from the way he spat them at her, these seemed to glow with a warm, refreshing ray of hope and an eagerness to hear her response, and another something that he kept under lock and key; something that Kimiko desperately longed to release. She unfroze, melting the ice in her fingers until they had thawed enough to resume their task.

"Well, yes. I mean, who wouldn't-"

"Don't."

The ice shot through her veins again, and eyes of the same color were glazed over with frost as she shifted them to him.

"Ex-_cuse_ me?"

"Don't do that." He elaborated, pointing to her handiwork. She realized he was referring to the plant, which, despite missing nearly a quarter of its luscious petals, did not look any less breathtaking. Raimundo stopped walking and unspokenly instructed her to do the same, and reached down to remove the gift from her. The frigid winter that resided in her morphed into immaculate spring courtesy of the electric volts that blazed through her when his spider leg fingers grazed her piano key ones.

"Don't waste it." He went on, after he had transferred it from her hand to his. Without hesitation, he took another step in and boldly cradled her porcelain cheek with more gentleness in his experienced hand than Kimiko thought he possessed in his entire body. She hoped the deep divots and crevices of his palm would not feel the scorching burn that surfaced once they sank into her.

"If you've got something nice, you should at least show it off." With his free hand he wove the vivid stem into her silken sooty locks, brushing his thumb over the petals to ensure they each glowed to their full capacity.

There was a snap when their eyes met, or at least Kimiko thought there was. Perhaps not a snap, but some type of sound similar to it; one made when two things shift into place and remain there. Raimundo's hand had lingered a moment longer than it should have, and she had glanced to see what had happened. Then, snap. Perfect.

Raimundo did have nice eyes, Kimiko resolved. Warm, unpredictable, the type of eyes that could belong on a facetious little boy or an aged man with enough stories to spin to make a quilt. They held a glimmer that always made it seem like he was laughing, and another sort of sheen that was inviting and open to everything. The color wasn't bad either. Green suited him. Young, wild, carefree, naive, kind...green did suit him very well.

He tore away almost instantly, keeping his little boy eyes (which now looked very much like they belonged on a little boy, because they were swimming in guilt) locked on the ground and an experienced hand, having been ripped off of Kimiko's skin fast enough to shred it, dug into the coils of his mahogany locks.

"I'd...better get those wontons." He mumbled, and scurried off in the opposite direction. Kimiko watched him go, confused at the odd way he took his leave, and tenderly stroked the flower he put in her hair.

Only after his silhouette had faded into the dense crowd did she realize that her heart had been pounding hard enough to crack and shatter her chest.

---

Everyone met back at Dojo's allotted spot at the appropriate time, comparing their spoils and sheepishly confessing their splurges. Omi had not trailed off the line and proudly showed off every item that he was instructed to buy; nothing more, nothing less. Clay allowed himself to buy some exotic dish he'd found (he didn't specify what it was, but it was assumed to be either billy goat or python), and Kimiko presented the single pair of glass chopsticks, surprising everyone.

What was even more surprising was that Raimundo had bought the most; a pump-type thing to refill his soccer ball, a scroll of an ancient folklore to hang in his room, and something else that he would not reveal. He kept it buried at the bottom of his leather satchel, snidely refusing anyone a chance to see what it was. Eventually they tired of pressuring him with no success, and so they departed for the temple.

What Raimundo hadn't realized though was that when he sat, the satchel's cover would fold up and away from the rest of the bag, letting anyone close enough to peer in and view its contents. Kimiko smiled to herself when she noticed this, and when she was sure he was not paying attention (Omi had picked a fight and Raimundo was flustered with anger) she leaned in and took a peak.

At first all she saw was orange, and then the full picture fell into place. Tiger Lilies. Fresh, from what she could see. Quite pretty, too; her favorite flower actually. She wondered why he would want to hide those.

---

Kimiko sat underneath her favorite cherry blossom tree at sundown, the place where she went to do most of her thinking. She had removed the peony from her hair and had gone back to do exactly what Raimundo had chided her for in the market. She was almost done, and the rosy tissues were gathered at her feet and floating like tiny ballerinas in the lazy breeze. She smiled as she plucked, still murmuring.

"He loves me not..."

Kimiko had never been in love, but she had always assumed that when she fell, she would know it. She thought that the smack of the pavement that splattered her brains would catch her attention, but the crash she felt wasn't particularly unpleasant. Truthfully, she enjoyed it.

"He loves me..." She was initially unaware that she held the last petal in her hand, and stared at it in disbelief when the fact settled upon her. Her smile melded into a grin, and she felt warm as a delighted entity massaged the back of her neck. She could feel it now. Crash.

And then it fled as recognition reared its ugly head.

Exactly who had she been thinking about?

That night, there was a bouquet of fresh Tiger Lilies waiting for Kimiko when she returned.

_And the plot thickens! But like I said, don't be quick to assume. Things may not be what they seem! Anyway, I'm gonna cut this short because I'm at school and I don't want to bug my roommate. Please review peeps! I'd love you eternally! _


	4. Fourth

Asking if he was in love with her was a waste of a question. She was the kind of girl that everyone fell in love with, instantly. You couldn't be around her for more than five minutes without being even a little infatuated. Jack had made his feelings fairly obvious, Omi continued to blush whenever he received her praise, and even Clay admitted to once, briefly, harboring a slight crush on her. It was evident that she was well liked.

So if he was asked if he was in love with her, he would proudly and confidently answer no.

Of course he didn't love her. He prided himself on not loving her. It was almost like his lack of feelings for her was some grand prize, and it only fueled his cocky demeanor even more. He was special, he broke the mold, he did the impossible. The best part was that it wasn't even a conscious move; he simply never found himself going gaga over her. She remained a friend, and he remained secure in their platonic relationship.

Or so everyone had thought.

---

"_I didn't say I hated all flowers. I didn't even say I disliked all flowers. All I said was that I only liked a few."_

_It was a lazy Spring day, the kind that just begged you to spend it outside, and the Xiaolin Warriors were doing just that. Omi giggled as he chased butterflies childishly throughout the tall grasses and Clay snored softly at the base of an enormous, budding tree. Kimiko and Raimundo, both devoid of their staple items (her PDA, his soccer ball), were nestled in its branches. They had had a __race to see who would reach the top first, but it was abandoned once they breeched the leafy cove, and they opted to rest instead and admire the view._

_Raimundo was hanging upside down, legs hooked over a sturdy branch, and watched the lounging Kimiko pick the tiny plants from the branches, though from his angle he couldn't tell what she was doing with them. He stretched his dangling arms and reached up (which was really down) for another branch, and grabbed it securely. He tightened his grip and kicked himself into a handstand, parting his legs into a split and holding it for a moment before __lowering himself down and flipping into a sitting position, still holding himself up with rigid toes pointing outward, and plopped carelessly onto the branch. A small example of the skills he mastered from years of circus performances._

"_It's the same thing." he finally replied, having found a comfortable position crossed legged on the branch. "Either way, you don't like most flowers. What's up with that? I thought you were a girl."_

_Kimiko grimaced at the boy beneath her and pulled another flower from its stem. Now Raimundo could see that she was making a chain with them. _

"_And just what exactly is THAT supposed to mean?" He shrugged, hiding a smirk._

"_I dunno. Don't all girls love flowers and junk?" Kimiko sighed and leaned towards him so he could hear, or rather understand, better._

"_One; let's drop the sexism for just a bit, kay? Two; I do like flowers. Just certain kinds." _

_She sat back into her original position and his mouth twisted in skepticism. He watched her delicately poke a hole into the stem of one flower with her thumbnail and thread it with the stem of another._

"_What kinds, then? Do you like those?" Raimundo gestured to the chain she was making and she made a face, unsure of her answer._

"_I guess. I mean, they're pretty."_

"_You don't even know what kind they are."_

"_Do you?"_

"_Of course not, but I don't have to. I'm a boy."_

_Kimiko growled quietly, but continued her task. Raimundo looked up at her and laughed, a ringing, childlike laugh that rumbled the leaves, and stood. He balanced on one foot before expertly scaling up the branches to join her on __hers. She admired the way he moved through the tree; he couldn't have been more competent if he possessed the Monkey Staff. _

"_So what kinds do you like?" he asked again once he was seated beside her, his long legs swinging precariously over the edge; the opposite of hers, which were __tucked neatly beneath her. She took a moment to think, cyan eyes working furiously to find a response. _

"_Tiger Lilies." was what she came up with, her eyes still hazy and recollective. Raimundo raised a bushy eyebrow, his own emerald orbs locked on her completed chain._

"_Any reason?" _

_Kimiko's gaze flitted back over to the tanned boy as a faint but sad smile grazed her ballet slipper lips. _

"_They were my mom's favorite."_

_Raimundo smiled too, the gesture lacking both mischief and teeth. "Those are my sister's favorite. I like them, too."_

_Kimiko looped the final flower through the slit, creating a ring of the small plants. She grinned at her handiwork and he laughed again, softer this time. She beckoned him to come forward and he obliged, confused. Before he could object, she threw the crown over his head and it nuzzled happily into the mess of moppish mahogany that he called hair. He gave her a deadly look, but her __laughter was so infectious that he couldn't help but chime in and made no move to remove it._

"_It looks pretty fly." Kimiko managed in between giggles, and he made a show of adjusting it to make her laugh more. "Raimundo Pedrosa, King of the Trees."_

"_I'm liking the title, at least the King part, anyway." He flashed a megawatt grin and she shook her head._

"_You're wearing a crown of flowers. And I'm supposed to be the girl?" He immediately flushed and glared at her, although it had no effect because she only laughed harder. _

_As much as he argued and fought for his masculinity, for the duration of their time in the tree he did not remove the crown._

_Because it made her laugh._

---

No one else knew her favorite flower. He was the only one that she'd told.

She hadn't realized how personal and guarded that secret was until after she revealed itand even then it took a while. She hadn't even gone into specifics, but nevertheless, the thought that she even alluded to her mother (which was a private and ineffable subject among the other monks, one they silently vowed not to question) to someone, let alone Raimundo, was frightening. He'd allowed her to open up, if only a little, a section of her heart that she had long since sealed. And he'd done it in such a way that was so caring and accepting (not asking about painful details or mocking her with condescending scoffs) that it had been all to easy to do it.

And that was what had made her nervous. Because she could just as easily do it again.

She put the flowers in water but gave them no other attention. She barely even looked at them. They served as a reminder of how easy it would be to open up to Raimundo.

And how easy it would be to fall for him.

---

The admirer hadn't made any moves since the bouquet, but Kimiko didn't particularly mind. She needed a break from it, the whole ordeal was beginning to become overwhelming. It started off as innocent and fun, but as the flashing neon arrows that all pointed in Raimundo's direction grew she was starting to become less captivated and more anxious. She didn't want it to be Raimundo. Raimundo was her friend, her buddy, her pal, her obnoxious nerve wracking immature source of irritation. You're not supposed to fall for a friend. That was an important rule, it had to be written somewhere. You're especially not supposed to fall for a friend who you considered to be one of your closest companions. The friendship would be shot to hell, and so would any chance of regaining it.

Kimiko didn't want to lose Raimundo, so she ignored the glaringly obvious hints that pinned him. Because that way, she wouldn't have to worry about hurting him, and she wouldn't have to break his heart when she woefully confessed that she didn't reciprocate.

Besides, there was still the slim chance that it wasn't him, right?

---

The final nail in Raimundo's coffin came six hours later. Kimiko had been on her way back from the kitchen, a glass of milk in one hand and her ipod in the other. She bopped her head along merrily to the music, unaware of her surroundings, when she felt something beneath her foot. Blinking and pulling out an earphone, she glanced to see that she had nearly crushed a tiny box. Her eyebrows cinched and she immediately shut off her mp3 player, coiled the long white cord around it, and set it gently on the ground next to her drink.

Kimiko crouched to one knee to examine the wrapped item better. She picked it up to get a better look, and was only a little surprised when she saw that it was addressed to her. Her name was written on the simple purple floral paper that adorned the box, but the penmanship was not what she expected it to be. Instead of the curvy, overzealous cursive that she had come to recognize, her name was printed in a monotone, sculpted bold, and all of the letters were capitalized. The box was not wrapped very neatly, as if the wrapper's clumsy fingers continued to get in the way until they simply gave up hope. She was a little confused; her admirer's handiwork had always been meticulously tidy. With a sigh, she peeled away the tape at the sides and the paper fell to the floor.

The box that the shabby wrap job hid was much nicer than expected. Kimiko fingered the velvety surface momentarily but her curiosity got the best of her and she flicked the box open. She gasped.

Inside, cushioned by anchors of padding, was a silver locket, its size equal to the length of her pinky finger. The shining metal was broken up with twisting black spirals and flowers, and the designs gave the trinket an elegance reminiscent of the 1940's; something classic and timeless. Kimiko pulled it out by the chain, long and hair thin, glimmering just enough to let you know it was there. The locket twirled slowly, dancing in the soft light of the burning flames hung along the walls.

She didn't want to open it. She was actually terrified of what lay inside, because whatever it was could take her finely crafted fabrication and tear it to ribbons.

Drawing a long, slow breath, Kimiko slid her manicured thumbnails, the very same that had craftily separated the stems of the flowers to make the crown that she had playfully flung over Raimundo's ears, in the nearly-invisible slot. She heard when the ornament unfastened, but she still cradled it as if it were closed. Kimiko contemplated if it was wise to peer inside, if she would really be better off not knowing what the heart held. Both the silver one and her own.

But she couldn't last without knowing, so she flipped it open quick like she was ripping off a band aid. The heart flew back on its hinges, exposed and vulnerable, and Kimiko reluctantly glanced down.

Only one half of the locket was occupied, but it said enough. Her own face smiled back at her, bright and colored with laughter. Beside her Raimundo had flung a shy arm across her shoulders, and although she showed no signs of discomfort, he did. His grin was bright enough to rival the sun and twin granny apples were cast sideways at the empty half, tender with youth and amusement.

Kimiko felt a hitch in her throat, because she knew she couldn't lie to herself any longer.

Raimundo was her secret admirer.

---

She didn't want to tell Raimundo outright that she knew his identity, she wasn't ready to tolerate the consequences. She slipped the long chain around her neck and let the locket swing between her breasts; she hoped it would be an obvious symbol of her knowledge, but wouldn't require explanation. Raimundo could know she knew, but she wouldn't have to say it. Besides, it _was_ beautiful, and who was Kimiko Tohomiko of all people to pass up showing off a fine piece of jewelry?

The day was consumed with a new Shen Gong Wu quest, and so Kimiko didn't get to formally speak with Raimundo until that night, and it was an accident. He was stalking through the courtyard with a flashlight in hand, swearing quietly under his breath as the beam of light darted searchingly across the grass. She flagged him down with a smile and a friendly wave, and he clicked off the device and trotted over to join her.

"Lose something?"she asked as she massaged the locket more visibly. Raimundo nodded as he plopped down beside her on the steps.

"Yeah. I must have dropped it somewhere."

"What is it? Can I help?" He reclined and crossed his legs, setting the flashlight down on the cool marble.

"Nah, I can do it myself. I just wanna find it before someone else-"

He cut himself off when he turned to look at her. His olive eyes widened then narrowed, and he sucked in air through gritted ivory teeth.

"Where did you get _that_?" He spoke like a machine, cold and calculated, so Kimiko could not read any emotion he may or may not have monopolized.

"Oh, this?" She lifted the glittering charm by its chain, and it resembled a fallen star in the whitish moonlight. "It was a gift."

"Hmm?" His voice was newsprint, black and white. "From who?"

"It didn't say." She attempted to imitate his practiced indifference, but it sounded too false so she dropped it. "There was a box with my name on it, so I opened it. But I have an idea who it might be."

He sat up and rested on his knees, and his stare was piercing enough to make her nervous. "Really? Who?"

She dropped the necklace and it hit against her skin with a dull thud. Her eyes fell with the trinket, unwilling to meet his. "The admirer."

She said it with reluctance for reasons she didn't understand, but the moment she glanced back at him she did. Inquisitive eyes were suddenly hurt and angry, and the disconnection he so expertly applied had gone out the window.

"Your...admirer." Raimundo's usually bright eyes were black, darkened by a seething detestation that Kimiko couldn't place. "You think...You think it's from your _admirer_. Of ALL people...you think..."

"Well, who else would it be?"

She immediately regretted saying that. He stared at her for a millisecond longer, and then he exploded to his feet, the seething detestation now full blown loathing.

"Oh gee, I have no idea. But that's the only logical explanation isn't it? Your God Damn idiotic secret admirer! He's the _only_ person who could _possibly_ give a rat's ass about you, isn't he!"

"What are you swearing for!" Kimiko shrieked back at him, her short fuse lit at his unabashed, uncharacteristic use of obscenity.

"I'm _pissed_, Kimiko, ok! I'm pissed off at you and your stupid secret admirer!"

"But _why?_!"

"Why!"

They were toe to toe and beat red in agitation. He was panting when he jabbed the finger at her, tempted to thrust it into her shoulder to highlight his point. His breath quickened and he drew back, his finger still raised but significantly limper.

"I shouldn't have to _say_ why."

He thundered up the steps and away from her, kicking a hole in the door as he passed.

---

"_What's that one again?"_

"_Orion."_

"_Oh. And that one's Taurus?"_

"_No, that's Lyra. Taurus is over there_."

"_Ohh, I see it now. You know, Rai, this is pretty cool."_

"_Yeah, you know it is. It's a nice night."_

"_Really nice. Hey, how'd you learn so much about stars?"_

"_Mm, I don't know. It's just something I picked up."_

"_Aw, c'mon. There has to be more to it than that."_

"_Not really."_

"_I don't believe you."_

"_You never do."_

"_Ha. Very true. But that's because you're usually lying."_

"_Only sometimes."_

"_Come on, tell me. How do you know all this stuff?"_

"_...It's stupid."_

"_I'm sure it's not. And if it is, I'll be sure to let you know."_

"_Oh yeah?"_

"_Yes. Because I'll be laughing."_

"_Well in that case maybe I won't tell you."_

"_Aww, I was just playing. C'mon, tell me. Please?"_

"_...Ok...So, when I was a little kid, I used to be scared of the dark."_

"_Aw! That's too cute!"_

"_You know what, if you're gonna get all girly on me-"_

"_Alright alright, I'll be quiet. Go on."_

"_Thank you. So, you know when a little kid's afraid of the dark, you just turn on the night light, right? One night, my whole village lost power. Faulty powerline or something. Anyway, I was pretty freaked...crying and junk."_

"_Aw-sorry, force of habit."_

"_Hmph. So, annnyway, my dad asked me why I was crying, and I told him I was scared of the dark. So, he takes me outside and shows me the stars. Now, I'd seen stars before, but never this many. There'd always been too many lights out to seen all of them. So you know, I was totally fascinated by them, and he'd take me out every night until we got power back and point out new stuff until I fell asleep. Since then I've never been scared."_

"_...Rai I have to say it..."_

"_You said you wouldn't!"_

"_I have to, though. That's probably the sweetest thing I've ever heard."_

"_Lame."_

"_No, adorable."_

"_Yeah yeah yeah, whatever. So, what about you?"_

"_What about me?"_

"_I've gone and born my soul, now it's your turn."_

"_Oh, no way. You know, maybe it's time to go inside..."_

"_Hey hey now, we're bonding. I told you something, now you have to tell me!"_

"_I didn't ask you to tell me that!"_

"_What! Yes you did! You ripped it out of me with a pair of plyers! Now spill!"_

"_I don't know what to tell you. I used to eat toothpaste?"_

"_That's really lame. Give me something good. Anything."_

"_What?"_

"_Anything! I don't know, any old boyfriends back home?"_

"_...We really should go inside..."_

"_Not until you talk. Now say it."_

"_...I don't have any good stories about boyfriends..."_

"_Ha! I don't believe that for a second! You honestly can't tell me you don't have a single story about one of your-"_

"_-Because I've never HAD a boyfriend."_

"_..."_

"_Ok, there. I said it. Can we move on now?"_

"_...Seriously?"_

"_Let's just drop it, ok?"_

"_You've NEVER had a boyfriend?"_

"_What's that constellation over there again?"_

"_Not even a little fling? Nothing?"_

"_No, ok! I'm a prude! Is it really that pathetic!"_

"_No, I'm not saying it cause I think you're a prude! I'm saying it cause...I mean, I didn't expect it. I always figured you had a ton."_

"_...Why?"_

"_I dunno. You seem like the type that all the boys would be after. You're kinda the full package, Kim."_

"_Oh. Wow, thanks..."_

"_Yeah."_

"_..."_

"_..."_

"_That's fairly high praise from someone as experienced as you."_

"_Experienced?"_

"_Didn't you have girls crawling all over you back home? You're always talking about them."_

"_Yeah, don't tell the others, but I'm more talk than action."_

"_Oh, REALLY? I NEVER would have guessed."_

"_Oh I know, I put on a good act."_

"_So have you...had a girlfriend?"_

"_Well, yeah. A few. But you know...ok, if I tell you something else, will you promise not to get weirded out?"_

"_No."_

"_...Well then fine."_

"_I'm just kidding, tell me."_

"_Ok...So, I've been with a couple of girls, yeah, but I...I mean, since I've been here, I don't wanna be with a girl...unless she's like you."_

"_..."_

"_...You promised."_

"_I'm not weirded out. I'm really, really flattered. You can be really sweet, Rai."_

"_Yeah, well...don't let it get around. I have a reputation to protect."_

"_Yeah, a reputation of being a jerk. I can see why you'd want to protect that."_

"_Better a jerk than a sissy."_

"_A jerk who likes stars."_

"_Low blow!"_

"_Consider it a compliment."_

_---_

"It's Raimundo. The admirer is Raimundo."

She sealed herself, Clay and Omi into the meditation hall for total privacy. She wanted the secret to remain among the three of them; it wasn't that Master Fung or the dozens of ancient monks inhabiting the temple would really care, but after her tiff with the Wind Dragon the night before she didn't want to take any chances. He could have ears all over, for all she knew.

Clay removed his hat and smoothed his flaxen hair over so his sky-like eyes could clearly access the situation. "Are you sure, little lady? That's a mighty big cow pie you're pitching." Kimiko nodded, alternating her gaze between her male counterparts.

"I'm positive. It all adds up! The pens, the flowers, and look at this!" She produced her locket from within her robe and cracked it open, extending her arm to its full length so they could see the evidence in her palm. Clay whistled softly and replaced his hat, still keeping it tilted back so that his eyes were visible.

"Shoot, I guess there's no other choice. Facts are facts. You reckon that's why he's been more ornery than a bull on rodeo day? To throw you off?"

"It must be!" Kimiko exclaimed, snapping the locket shut and placing it furtively back under the cloth. "Why else would he be uber jealous and pissy?"

"I never would have pinned Rai." The Texan added, scratching the back of his head. "I sooner would have expected it to be Wuya."

"Me neither. But like you said, facts are facts. There's not arguing that."

"When will you tell him?"

Omi had been oddly silent for the entire time, so when he spoke both Kimiko and Clay jumped. His dark eyes were focused but his expression was like a taut bedsheet, revealing nothing. He moved towards Kimiko but stopped shortly after he started, and he kept his focused eyes locked on her, waiting for a reaction.

"I-I...what?"

"What I think Omi's tryin' to say is, are you gonna tell Rai you know?" Clay offered, vainly trying to break the youngest monk's concentration. Kimiko stared down at her delicate, pointed black shoes.

"I suppose I have to. He must know by now, anyway. We...we kinda had a fight last night. About all this."

"Was it bad?" Clay asked, concerned. The Japanese girl nodded.

"Very. We haven't spoken since. I don't even know if I'll be able to tell him." Clay shrugged and turned to unlock the door, tipping his hat back into its rightful position with a flick of his head.

"It's all you now, Kimiko. When and how, or if, you tell him you know is all you. I ain't gonna stop ya." He pushed aside the heavy bolt and opened the door. "Though I will admit, I don't wanna be there when you do it."

Clay left and Kimiko started to do the same when she felt a tug on her sleeve. Omi's small yellow hand clutched the fabric, and his intense eyes bored into her.

"Kimiko, what Clay said I meant...was not what I meant."

He released her and left, with Kimiko standing dumbly in the center of the shrine.

---

Kimiko resolved that if she ever were to fall in love with any of them, it would be Raimundo.

She gave it a lot of thought, or rather had been from the moment she began to suspect him, and he really was the only logical choice. Omi was young in every sense of the word. He was too absorbed in himself and innocence to really see what was around him. Omi was like her kid brother, the one who was too arrogant for his own good and got into one too many fights that she had to drag him out of. He was naive and simple, and probably had never been in love. Of course not, he probably didn't know what love was, aside from narcissism. Dating Omi would always feel weirdly wrong, and she couldn't be with someone if it made her feel like a pedophile.

Clay, on the other hand, was her rock, her pillar of support whenever she slumped or stumbled. He always offered an open ear and mind when she needed to talk, and sometimes, in her rare moments of weakness, he offered a strong, broad shoulder to cry on. When Rai had crossed over, the cowboy's bones had been swimming in her tears. Clay never judged and he never condescended. Even still...Clay was too patriarchal; he was only a year older than she, but his simple, quiet wisdom made it seem like decades. She needed Clay, that was certain. But not as a boyfriend.

Raimundo was an ass. He was cocky and selfish and impractical and rude and had the sense of humor of a six year old. She knew that, everyone knew that. Nonetheless, she'd pick him. His immaturity had subsided in the past year or so, she had noticed, and it allowed her to see the Raimundo behind the jokes and masks; the real Raimundo. The real Raimundo was kind and charming and compassionate, and fiercely protective of his friends and those he held close. He didn't have to pull her from that tag team Xiaolin Showdown; the bruises and broken bones and scars could have been hers to heal. She'd catch a glimpse of the remains of that battle when he changed or trained, and each time she felt a pang of guilt. He didn't _have_ to do that, but he did anyway because he _wanted_ to. He'd rather die himself than have harm come to his friends.

The real Raimundo was funny too. Genuinely funny, the kind of funny that was the only thing that could make her laugh when she needed it. He was also understanding and didn't question the skeletons in her closet the way the others would, because he knew things that had been buried (like her mother) were supposed to stay there. He understood _her_...there had been times when he knew things about her before she even did. Like intuition, or something. Something that would breathe a word of encouragement or slide a hot cup of tea across the table. She'd consider Raimundo to even be her best friend, which was a high honor in her book. He outranked Keiko (though she'd never tell her that).

And there was of course his looks. She couldn't deny that. He had good genes, that's all she could say. And the body...well, training was working out for him. _Really_ well.

But that was all nonsense. She only imagined that she could be in love with Raimundo. She'd never actually fall for him.

Unless she already had.

She shot up as if the bed were made of electrodes and resisted the urge to scream.

Had it always been that obvious? Or was she just that dumb?

"...Crap."

_Bwa ha ha! We reach the exciting part, finally! Sorry this took so long, college is mad hard, fo' realz. But only one chapter to go! And it's the epic conclusion! As always, reviews are loverly! Drop 'em like bombs, if you can! Oh, and I hope you enjoyed!_


End file.
